


the world minus one

by hailingstars



Series: someone gets hurt (febuwhump 2021) [11]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Agent Jimmy Woo, Confinement, FebuWhump2021, Friendship, Gen, Magic Tricks, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Peter Parker Gets Stabbed, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Stabbing, don't blame him he's on house arrest, house arrest, peter's a tiny bit bitter in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: “Who the hell are you?”“Agent Woo,” he says.“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.”“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his badge as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth.ORAgent Jimmy Woo is assigned to oversee Peter's house arrest post far from home, and Peter's eyes see probation officer but his brain screams FRIEND.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Jimmy Woo, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: someone gets hurt (febuwhump 2021) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138436
Comments: 59
Kudos: 360
Collections: Spider-Man Public Identity Reveal, febuwhump 2021





	the world minus one

Peter considers chopping his foot off. 

Did he really need two feet? Maybe Mr. Stark could fashion him a prosthetic like he did for his own Infinity Gauntlet damaged arm, or maybe Peter could spend one of his annoyingly long days trapped inside this apartment figuring out how to do it himself. 

He’s exiled to a much larger apartment than the one he and May share in Queens, but somehow, it still manages to be cramped and suffocating, as if the air there was thick and might smother him before the boredom drove him up the walls. 

That is if his ankle monitor doesn’t choke the life out of him first. 

He pulls at it, itching at it from his place sitting in the middle of the living room floor, when the doorbell rings and Peter stops, he frowns. Mr. Stark isn’t expected to visit him today, and May isn’t due for dinner until a couple of hours. 

With a sigh, he stands and walks across his apartment. He opens the door to an unfamiliar face wearing a familiar and unwelcome FBI jacket.

“Who the hell are you?” 

“Agent Woo,” he says. 

“Ha,” says Peter. He grins. “That rhymed.” 

“I’ve been assigned to oversee your home detainment,” he tells him, flashing his badge as if he were a magician, and they were at a magic show, instead of the most boring place on planet earth. 

It’s an awkward moment. Him just standing there, in the hall, and Peter basks in his ability to make a Fed sweat. 

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” 

“Are you a vampire?” 

“...I’m sorry?” 

“Vampires,” sighes Peter. “They have to be let in. Feds usually don’t wait for an invitation. Not used to one having manners.” 

Peter walks away from the door, leaving it open, and hoping that’s enough of an invitation. It isn’t like he has a choice anyway. 

Agent Woo shuts the door behind him, and something stabs at Peter. He’s being rude. His aunt taught him better than that, and there’s something about Agent Woo that Peter decides he likes. The magic trick, maybe. 

Peter offers him coffee. Agent Woo looks over at the kitchen, which is admittedly a disaster zone, and politely declines. 

“So, what’s your job?” asks Peter. He clears a space off of the dining room table for them to both sit down. “Making sure I’m not staging an escape attempt?” 

“Basically, I’ll be dropping by from time to time, to ensure you’re behaving yourself,” says Agent Woo. “Tony Stark did bribe me to harass you about your online classes and that’s not typically part of my job description, I need the money for my children’s college -”

“-you have kids?” 

“Not yet, but I plan to, and with the way the economy is-” Agent Woo pauses. “We’re really supposed to be talking about you.” 

“I’m behaving myself,” says Peter. “I’m attending my online classes, and I’ve got no plans to take up a new identity and flee the country. Now back to you. Anyone special you’re planning on having these kids with? I need all the details.” 

It’s true. He does. 

There isn’t much entertainment in his life what with being locked up in an apartment, spending most of his days alone. It’s for May’s safety that they aren’t able to live together during his house arrest, during the massively long stretch of time before his trial, but that doesn’t mean Peter likes it. 

Agent Woo spills something about a doctor before pausing a second time and getting back on track. He recites the same information Peter’s heard before. It’s really boring and a waste of time, but Peter supposes he’s got lots of it to waste, anyway. 

“Any questions for me?” Agent Woo asks, once he’s finished with his spiel. 

“Can you show me how to do that magic trick?” 

“Maybe another time,” he tells him, then looks around. “You know, a lot of people in your situation find it helps to form a routine and create a clean living space. Waking up in the morning, showering, putting on normal clothes.” 

Peter frowns at the sudden callout. “Who says pajamas aren’t normal?”

“Just offering some friendly advice.” 

He stands, and heads for the door, telling him he’ll be by in a couple of weeks, when Peter feels the throbbing near his ankle. 

“Agent Woo,” says Peter, before he gets to the door. “You wouldn’t, um, know how to loosen the ankle monitor? I may have been what Mr. Stark fondly refers to as tactless with the agent who put it on and they  _ may  _ have retaliated just a little bit.” 

So, Agent Woo loosens the ankle monitor, and Peter, once he’s alone in the apartment, collapses on his couch and decides that he and Agent Woo are going to be friends, despite the unsolicited advice. 

*

Peter’s prepared the next time Agent Woo visits. 

Coffee is going, the apartment is clean, and he’s got five packs of playing cards laid out on the kitchen table. It had been a lot of whining on his part to convince Mr. Stark to drop everything and run to the store and buy them, but this is an emergency. A magic emergency. 

He’s also ordered a pizza, and it arrives just as Agent Woo starts his regular round of checkup, interrogation questions. 

“Oh, that’s the pizza,” says Peter, when the doorbell rings. 

Agent Woo opens his mouth as Peter leaps up from his chair, but ultimately doesn’t say anything. Once Peter’s back to the kitchen table, he opens the box and lets the aroma fill the apartment. 

“Want a slice?” 

“That would be crossing professional bounds…” says Agent Woo. His voice trailed off. He stared at the pizza. “But that pizza looks really good, and I haven’t had lunch…”

Peter pushes the box closer to the FBI agent. Agent Woo grabs a slice, and official talk about Peter’s detainment falls to the wayside. 

“Tell me about the doctor,” says Peter. “Is she pretty?” 

Agent Woo obliges, and Peter begins to understand why Woo’s crushing on her so hard. She sounds kickass. And Peter’s rooting for them. 

“You gotta ask her out, man,” says Peter. A string of melt cheese hangs off his mouth and swipes it away. “I mean, Agent Woo.” 

The agent laughs, and by the time he leaves, Peter knows how to do the magic trick and almost no time was spent talking about his upcoming trial or the conditions of his house arrest.

*

Peter bleeds out on his living room floor. 

He hadn’t meant to get stabbed. He hadn’t even meant to step out of his apartment, but it’s getting to him. The confinement. The crime happening below his apartment and he’s expected to sit by and let happen. 

Mr. Stark is going to kill him, and he wouldn’t have called him if not for the pain, the unbearable pain of his skin stitching itself back together. Superpowered healing doesn’t come without it’s trauma. 

To make matters worse, his doorbell rings, and he isn’t expecting anyone, so he knows it’s Agent Woo. 

He inhales deep. He tries freeing his face from displaying the terrifying agony he’s experiencing in his leg, and he limps over to answer the door. 

Agent Woo isn’t fooled. “Jesus Christ, is that blood?” 

“Is that Delmar’s?” Peter momentarily forgets his situation when he spots the brown bag in Agent Woo’s hand, and when he smells the unforgetful aroma of Delmar’s Deli.

“Forget the sandwiches,” says Agent Woo. He walks into the apartment, helps Peter back to the couch, and places the bag on the coffee table. “What happened to you?”

“Don’t freak out,” he tells him. “I accidentally stabbed myself with a steak knife.” 

Agent Woo stands, crosses his arms. “I’m supposed to believe you did that to yourself? On accident?” 

“To be fair,” says Peter. “You’ve known me long enough to know that’s also extremely probable.” 

“How could you do this,” says Agent Woo. He isn’t angry. His voice sounds the same as Mr. Sark’s had on the phone. Worried. Afraid for him, and what’s done, putting his own privilege of pretrial house arrest on the line for a few minutes fighting petty criminals. “You know what’s at stake if you break the rules.” 

“I know,” says Peter, softly. “I’m sorry.” 

“We need to put pressure on that.” 

Agent Woo disappears from his sight and returns with a towel he carefully ties around Peter’s leg wound. 

“Are you sure you don’t need a hospital?” 

Peter shakes his head. “Spider healing will work it’s magic.” 

He closes his eyes and tries to block out the pain, and when that doesn’t work, he decides a distraction is what he needs. 

“Tell me about Dr. Lewis,” he says, through a grimace. “Have you asked her out yet?” 

Agent Woo sits on the couch next to him. “Not yet.” 

“You gotta get on that,” says Peter. “Before someone else does.” 

“I don’t know about that, Pete,” he tells him. “I don’t know if someone like her would say yes to someone like me.” 

“Someone like you? Someone who’s a nice person? And likes all the same cheesy sit-coms as her?” asks Peter. “Dude, you two are perfect for each other. You’re gonna ask her, and she’s going to say something like geez, finally, I was waiting for you to get a clue, and then you’ll have little Dr. Lewis-Woos running around all over the place.” He stops, the pain stabs, and he keeps going. “She’d be lucky.” 

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Anytime,” says Peter, his voice cracking. The edges of his vision blur, but he’s able to focus on the brown bag on the coffee table. “You really brought me Delmar’s?”

“Last time I was here you said how much you missed it.” 

“Make a habit of doing favors for murders? Fun.” 

The pain’s making him more bitter, more honest, more angsty about the fact that the entire world thinks he’s killed that clown Mysterio. Maybe that’s what his temporary escape is really about. Trying to prove that he’s good. That he’s against the crimes people say he’s committed. 

“I know you’re not a murderer.” 

The entire world minus one, he guesses, along with his friends and family.

“You believe me?” 

“I’ve dealt with killers before,” says Agent Woo. “You’re not one of them.”

Peter feels lighter, better even in his leg, by the idea of someone like Agent Woo believing his innocence. Gives him hope maybe his house arrest will end with freedom instead of prison, like Mr. Stark has been telling him from the start. 

His good feeling doesn’t last long, though, because Mr. Stark barges through the door and Peter’s spidey senses know he’s about to get a lecture. 

“How could you be so stupid?” 

“Mr. Stark -”

“-No,” says Mr. Stark. “No excuses. I’ve warned you over and over again. Where is it?” 

Peter pulls the device he’d built to interfere with the ankle monitor out from his pocket, and hands it over to Mr. Stark, who breaks it. 

“For a genius,” says Agent Woo, as he eyes the broken parts of the interference device. “You really lack common sense.” 

Mr. Stark turns his attention to Agent Woo. “Look, Agent -”

“-I’m off duty,” says Agent Woo, standing up from the couch. “Just a guy bringing some sandwiches, and I’ve really got no reason to believe he didn’t slip and fall, uh, on a kitchen knife. Just… never again.” 

Peter nods his head. “Okay, yeah, never again.” 

Agent Woo leaves them, Mr. Stark softens and gives him his extra strength pain relievers, and Peter drifts off, but not before devouring the sandwiches he loves and dwelling on the tiny spark of hope Agent Woo offered to him. 

Not everyone believes he’s a murderer, and for that moment, it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> jfkdlsafj I feel like I always say this about these prompts, but I'd love to have more time with this one!! if anyone else writes a Peter and jimmy are friends fic please let me knoowoww
> 
> thanks for reading!! 
> 
> comments and kudos let me know what you think!!


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